Don't Love Too Soon
by Ms. ST
Summary: The only moral Betelgeuse would follow, fearful that he may lose the only one he cares for besides himself. One-shot. Rated K for a bad pun.


_This was written at about twelve o'clock midnight. Yeah, I couldn't sleep. The story wouldn't let me. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it… Even though it's not that long. And sadly, Beetlejuice and company were not my idea. Duh. Though I wish they were. Come on! A French skeleton who's an exercise freak! Only brilliant people come up with that stuff! A tip of the hat goes to you, Tim. And finally, the lyrics were from Pj Harvey's Love Too Soon. Enjoy!_

_P.S: Puns aren't really my forte, so that's why I had to put that one syllable in bold, just in case people didn't get it… Heh. _

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It was carnival season in the Neitherworld, and though the giddy and mischievous spark never left the Ghost with the Most's deceased heart, the carnival season always seemed to swell his desire to cause chaos. It must have been the easy targets whom he could pull his infamous pranks on. The small simpletons were all unaware, all too absorbed in the festivities to acknowledge that Betelgeuse was putting small firecrackers near the feet of his roommate Jacques and his neighbor The Monster across the Street.

"If you're wonderin' where I got the firecrackers," he said as he held his hand on the side of his lips, muffling whatever he was saying from his victims, "Fourth of July with Lyds. Box of explosives beside Chuck. Just too tempting." He cackled as he tip-toed to a safe distance and with a snap of his fingers the fireworks cracked, popped, and spiraled above the head of his victims. His screeches drowned out the hollering of Jacques and The Monster across the Street, and when he peeked from behind his eyelid and watched the two dance with such arrhythmic moves, his entire body shook with mirth and he rolled over several times in the air as he held his stomach.

As the noises died down, Betelgeuse opened his eyes, wiping a dramatic tear from his eye. A goofy smile still lingered on his lips, but unfortunately he had been the only one who thought the prank was comedic genius – story of his life. His friends, or perhaps soon-to-been ex-friends, towered over him. Jacques looked furious, his thin line of a mustache slightly sizzled off and his bones visibly shaking. The Monster across the Street looked more frightening for he growled and his fur stood straight up.

"Ah, come on, guys!" Betelgeuse chuckled nervously as Jacques started to crack his knuckles. "It was just a little prank. I was just having some fun. You guys needa learn how to take a joke!" With every excuse Betelgeuse spat out, The Monster across the Street and Jacque bowed lower and lower into his face until he found himself lying flat on the ground.

"Ah, boys! I'm **flat**tered," he snorted. "Really, I am." His panicked eyes searched around to find some form of help, and just when he gave up hope and his hands were shielding his face from Jacques's knuckles, he felt a pull on his lower back as if a pair of hands was ripping out his spleen. He was all too familiar with the tugging sensation, which led him to shower the area with his high-pitched laughter, make a mocking expression towards his friends, and wiggle his fingers in a fashion that meant Jacques lucked out on a Betelgeuse beating today.

Betelgeuse suddenly found himself in a rather large room. Its four walls were painted a dark shade of purple, and gloomy curtains draped across a high window from forth sunlight generously poured in. A small table with an unlit candle set on top sat in the middle of the room, and on the side was a queen-sized bed with a purple canopy hovering over the mattress, which was also dressed in purple. It did not dawn on the poltergeist until he set his boot on the ground, that the room was covered with scraps of paper. His heel stabbed one of the pieces of paper, so he lifted his foot to pull it off.

"Babes?" His once strong, vain voice was now withered down into a small peep of curiosity. "It's about time ya called me. Thought you forgot about Mardi Gross..." He fell silent when silence was all he recieved.

Too lazy to walk to the edge of Lydia's bed, Betelgeuse floated his way towards the vampire alarm clock where his favorite breather had her hand tossed over it. Her dark eyes were closed and her chest moved in a slow rhythmic pattern. She was sleeping.

The poltergeist peered casually at his friend, watching her never-changing expression while a minute whistle escaped her lips. A low rumble formed in his throat, but all that was left was a small sigh that was meant to be a chuckle.

Was it odd that the most powerful ghost in the Neitherworld was suddenly struck with awe or tenderness by a mortal who wasn't even old enough to drive, drink, or go out past her curfew? Was it awkward that his eyes followed the lines of Lydia's delicate chin, her nose, her shoulders, her premature hips, her legs, and then back up to her plump lips, which were slightly parted to form a very small O? Had he been preoccupied with scanning every inch of the mortal's room, feeling embarrassed for staring at her for such a long time, he might not have noticed the strange twitch he had in his lower stomach whenever his eyes wandered over to her. The feeling scared him and he desperately wanted to go home, but in order to do that his named would have to be called three times. Again.

His brain clicked. Had Lydia called his name in her sleep? Was she dreaming about him? If so, what about? Was it a nightmare? Did she call it out of fear or desire? His heart clenched, hoping it was the latter. But why did it do that? Why, all of a sudden, did this feeling in his heart and the pit of his stomach come now and not when they were both awake? Was it because of her vulnerability? Or perhaps it was because she was asleep and one could act in any way or feel any way or say anything he or she wanted without being judged because the other was unconscious and unaware of the awkwardness of someone's presence.

"Betelgeuse."

The poltergeist jumped, nearly butting his head into a bed post. His name, never sounding so sweet, slipped past the ruby lips of Lydia Deetz. His name never sounded so innocent, so pure, or so friendly. The tone behind his name was soft, not hard with anger or hatred. It was as if she was nonchalantly calling her friend over to view her new photographs. It showed loved.

"Betelgeuse."

Though he would never outwardly admit it, she was the only thing he had. She was the only one who touched him with compassion and humanity. He felt human again when he was around her, though she looked just as dead as he did. Lydia was the only person who he could never pull a dirty prank on. She was the one who made him feel bad for what he does, in fear that he might lose her. She was the only friend who forgave him and accepted him for who he was – bugs and all.

He loosened his fingers, and he heard something fall to the ground. It was the paper he stepped on, but never read, thinking that there was nothing written on it. But again, his curiosity got the better of him, and he picked up the crumpled piece of paper and unfolded it. The first time he read it as if it was some boring moral, but when he got to the end, his eyes flicked back up to the first word.

_Love too soon  
Can fade away  
Love too soon  
Can fail away_

"Betelgeuse?" Lydia woke up, but she must have thought she was still dreaming because she rubbed her eyes to make sure that, that black and white were only the after affects of sleeping for so long.

The poltergeist popped back into his roadhouse and sulked into a sandworm skinned chair. The words that he read in Lydia's handwriting were right. Loving someone too soon could destroy everything. What was another ten years? Ghost had nothing better to do than wait. They were nearly professionals.

"A few more years, babes…" he whispered, sipping a glass of bug juice he magicked into his hand. "A few more years…"

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_Well, there you go. I really hope I didn't waste a few minutes of your life with this story. Please review. Tell me you love it, are indifferent, hate it, or simply threw your guts up when reading the first paragraph. Uhh… Bye! ;) _


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